


(A Little Less) Doom and Gloom

by delighted



Series: A Cure for Doom and Gloom [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Follow up, M/M, for those who asked for it, post-episode S6E13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to my post-S6E13 story “Doom and Gloom.”</p>
<p>Steve decides they need the day off, and Danny’s hoping he can get him to open up more... or at least stop being so un-Steve-like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those who asked for it! Well, here’s more. :-)
> 
> Three chapters—one today, one Wednesday, and the third on Friday.
> 
> I hope it has more of what you wanted more of.... It starts the next morning, and literally just goes through the day. I kinda doubt that’s what you all had in mind when you said “more,” but it’s what came out. I could keep going and going, though, so.... If you still want more, I'm evidently willing to be persuaded.....

All things considered, it wasn’t terribly shocking that they both slept like logs that night. But, early in the morning, with the light streaming through the windows, Danny found himself awake, wide awake, much earlier than he would have otherwise been. Imagining that Steve would still be asleep, he turned to look, and saw hazel eyes regarding him with the slightest hint of smirk.

“’Morning,” he breathed out, and he realized he’d forgotten to engage his filters, because he had inadvertently used his bedroom voice. Oops.

“Hi,” Steve smiled back, either not noticing or not minding the rather sultry tone. “I haven’t slept that well.... Well. In a long time. Thank you.”

Danny’s inner voice went “Awwwww,” but his filters had started to panic, so he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, what he said was probably worse. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve saved them from awkwardness by just going with it. He pulled Danny to him. “I say we take the day off. Hopefully no one will try and blow anything up today.”

“You tell Chin?”

“I’ll text him in a bit, it’s still early.” And Steve’s voice was kind of muffled, because he was speaking to Danny’s hair, and Danny felt warm and fuzzy.

“Well, in that case, I’d go back to sleep if it weren’t so freaking bright in here. How do you ever sleep in?”

“Sleep in?” Steve chided. “What’s that?”

Danny laughed, but pulled Steve’s arm tighter around him. “You should try it. It’ll be part of our treatment.”

“Or we could go for a swim,” Steve suggested, and Danny was about to laugh, but realized Steve was probably serious.

“If you make me coffee, I’ll come watch you swim. How’s that?”

Steve chuckled and said “Ok, deal. But not just yet,” and snuggled against Danny, sighing softly.

Several very contented deep breaths later, Danny realized that now their bodies were awake their minds would follow, and either they needed to get up and _do_ something, or they were going to find themselves talking. Well, he was going to find himself talking. Steve would probably fall back into gloomy _not_ talking. Taking the middle road, he decided to discuss practicalities.

“How are you for food, babe?” He began. “Can we just stay here all day, or are we going to need to run out? I should go grab some stuff from my place, but I could get through the day if we’ll just be here....”

He could tell Steve was smirking. “What, you were thinking of cooking, Danno? Not in my house you don’t,” he teased.

“No, actually,” Danny replied, resisting being offended, “I was thinking you’d cook for me.”

“Yeah, I could do that,” Steve began, and he sounded wistful, Danny thought. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s just stay in today, if that’s ok.” And his tone gave Danny what he’d been looking for. Steve had granted himself (and all of them) a day to recover, and he was going to make the most of it. Danny would take that as his lead, and proceed forward very carefully. He’d got himself this far, he thought. He wasn’t about to spook Steve and ruin it.

“Sounds perfect, babe,” he replied, and he knew right away that had been exactly the right response, because he could feel the smile radiating from Steve.

“Ok,” Steve said, and maybe he’d had the same sense of “get going or get thinking” Danny’d had, because he gave Danny a squeeze and started to get out of bed. “I’ll go put the coffee on,” and he headed to the bathroom to put his swim trunks on. He stopped to send that text to Chin, then handed his phone to Danny. “Just in case we get a call....” And there was no doubt in his tone that he would be hoping they wouldn’t. Danny nodded, and put Steve’s phone next to his own, realizing very clearly what a huge thing that had just been. Steve, handing his phone over. That was like handing control over. Danny hoped it was a good sign, rather than a bad one.

After Steve headed down to the beach, Danny decided to shower. He tried to stick to Steve’s two minute shower rule, and laughed at himself for it. Putting the same sweats he’d grabbed last night back on, he put both phones in the pocket and went down for coffee.

He poured himself a cup of steaming hot and very strong coffee (he smiled at that, knowing Steve had made it extra strong for him, and that thought did something funny to his insides). Looking in the fridge for milk he found a flavored creamer, which he knew Steve would never have gotten, and imagined that had been Deb or Mary. There were juices that must have been Joanie’s, and he figured Charlie would happily drink them (he was sure Rachel wouldn’t allow him that brand, but what she didn’t know.... He squelched that line of thought.) Danny tried a splash of the creamer and thought it was rather nice, but sweet, so he added some milk too. There was actually a lot of food Danny wasn’t used to seeing in Steve’s kitchen, and he was building a picture of what it must have been like for Steve to have three females in his home. Danny’s heart kind of broke, and he was a little afraid he might cry, both because it made him think of his own home, and because dammit, Steve deserved more of a family life. At any rate, there wasn’t going to be a shortage of food they could do something with. He topped up his coffee and headed down to the water to watch Steve swim. He felt himself smile—as morning routines went, he thought, it was really kind of sweet. He took a deep breath and told himself not to get used to it, but... if he enjoyed it while it lasted, well. He was only human.

Steve had brought out two towels, and he'd spread one on Danny’s usual chair, leaving the other draped over the back of his, and Danny shook his head at thoughtful-host Steve. Who knew? Danny wondered if Steve had fallen into some sort of protective, father-figure, man of the house type role when the place had been full of McGarrett women, and how much was that a part of what was affecting Steve lately? Taking a deep breath, he sat on the betowled chair, putting his coffee down on the table between the chairs and looking out across the water to see how far out Steve had gotten. He could just barely make out a dot, and it didn’t surprise him that Steve would want to swim for a good long time today. Not having anything else to do, Danny leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the warm sun on his face.

He let his mind just sort of drift, and the main thing it seemed to be finding interesting were the visible traces of Deb and Mary and Joanie still in the house, and the almost tangible residue of “family man” he sensed was clinging to Steve. Whether it was because Steve didn’t want to let it go, or because he was connecting it to mourning Deb, and by extension his father, Danny wasn’t sure. But he was becoming fairly certain it was a vital part of what was going on in Steve’s head.

Another part of his brain was, and had been, focused on the personality stuff he’d been reading, hoping to find something to help him get through to Steve better. It seemed to center on the fact that Steve’s personality type didn’t do very well with their internal, emotional world, and compensated for that by attempting to elicit control over their outer world. Which, _hi_ , Danny had said to the book when he read that, _textbook Steve_. There were about fourteen different things Danny’s mind tried to make of that, but he just kept coming back to the fact that Steve’s emotional world had been an absolute mess recently, so his controlling, competitive, frustrating nature was hyped up in a valiant attempt to flood out the internal whirl he didn’t want to, and perhaps even _couldn’t_ deal with.

What Danny hadn’t been able to work out—and frankly he’d only read so much before he found himself thinking he was better off following his own feelings about what would be best for Steve (after all, Danny knew Steve and the book didn’t). But Danny hadn’t been able to work out whether forcing Steve to deal with his emotions would help mitigate his controlling tendencies, or whether Steve needed to exert _more_ control on his outside world in order be able to face his feelings. It gave Danny a headache, and he wound up wanting to throw the book across the room, or possibly at Steve.

And, since you mention it, there was, after all, a whole other side to the coin. Danny himself. Danny wasn’t so unaware as to think for one moment that his own personality wasn’t part of the equation. He’d had a harder time typing himself than he had Steve (that had practically jumped off the page and hit him in the face), but he tended to feel he was a bit more balanced than Steve (ha, ha, yes, he could hear Steve laughing when he thought that). But one thing he did know, with every certainty, was that while Steve’s personality type did _not_ dwell on feelings and emotions, Danny’s type most certainly _did_. He tried to remind himself that his own focus on the importance of expressing emotions was a product of his personality as much as Steve’s desire to avoid it was a product of his.

He’d got this far before, and each time had wound up wanting to hit his head on the wall from the feeling it gave him that there was just no way for them to come to a resolution, in the category of discussing feelings at least, that would make them both happy. But, Danny was not going to let that negative voice win. Not this time. Not when it came to Steve.

He opened his eyes and picked up his coffee, and decided to clear his mind and just let the day go where it might. He wasn't sure how they were going to navigate the potentially dangerous realm of thinking and talking, but Danny hoped they’d find their way. Fortunately, gazing out to sea is a splendid method for clearing your mind. Even when it’s more muddled and tossed about than you’re willing to admit.

By the time Steve finished his swim, Danny had gone back twice for more coffee, and he hoped that all that swimming had done something for Steve’s head. The last trip Danny had made in for more coffee, he’d brought one out for Steve, because he’d been tracking his progress, and thought he was getting rather good at judging the distance/speed aspects. He’d planned pretty well, he had to admit, and Steve grinned hugely when Danny handed him his cup.

“Thanks, Danno, that was sweet of you.”

Danny bit his lip and tried to pretend he wasn’t blushing. “Yeah, well, I’m hungry, and you told me I couldn’t cook, so....”

Steve laughed, but clearly didn’t take him seriously, as he dried himself off then sat down to drink his coffee. “Ahhh,” he sighed as he leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “This is nice, eh, Danny? I could do with a week of just this. Swim, then coffee on the beach each morning, some good food, then a swim and drinks on the beach at night?”

“Yeah, babe?” Danny was intrigued by this insight. He’d always assumed Steve’s perfect week included considerably more explosions. “Would you really like that?”

Steve’s head tilted, and he seemed puzzled. “God, yeah, Danny.” He looked into Danny’s eyes. “Does that surprise you?”

“Little bit, babe,” Danny admitted. “Seems tame for you, you gotta admit.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Steve asked, and Danny wasn’t quite sure if his tone was angry or just defensive or what.

“Meaning you tend to... schedule... things a bit more full than that, like on Maui?” Danny was remembering Steve’s list of activities for that failed weekend—his pseudo “spring break” itinerary.

Steve huffed out an awkward chuckle, and, oddly, blushed. “Yeah, that was... God, Danny, I’m so sorry about that.” And the hazel eyes searching Danny’s were so damn genuine, Danny almost couldn’t stand it.

“Whatever, babe, we got really soft skin, right? Could have been worse.” And he laughed, a little tensely. That weekend had been... well. “You still got any of that soap left?”

Steve shook his head ruefully. “No, Mary stole it.”

And Danny laughed heartily at that, and Steve seemed to lighten. “Ah, sisters,” Danny sighed.

“You miss yours, buddy?” Steve asked, softly.

“Hell yeah, and hell no, all at once,” Danny replied, without thinking. “I mean, I lived with mine, and close to mine, my whole life, you know? It’s different.”

“Hmmm,” Steve nodded. “God, I hadn’t even spoken to Mary in ages before she came back after Dad died,” he mused. “I missed so much.”

And suddenly Danny realized they were actually talking, and Steve was actually opening up, and he smiled inwardly. “Yeah, babe, I know.”

And Steve looked at him and smiled, and he’d evidently had the same thought. “Hey, look at that,” he said. “See, we talk. Just, maybe over coffee on the beach is better than in a stuffy office with some stranger.”

Danny had to agree. “Yeah, babe,” and he leaned forward, to put a hand on Steve’s knee. “Much better.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a song referenced in this chapter. In case you’d like to have it ready to listen when it comes up.... “Ku’u Kika Kahiko (My Old Guitar),” by Ozzie Kotani. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TyfGV6IiV4

Danny was hesitating between pushing it to be more and allowing that, for Steve, even that little admission had been a lot. He felt like he was physically holding himself back from plowing forward, and maybe he’d leaned toward Steve to see if he couldn’t tell better which way to go. Steve was looking sweetly proud of himself, but Danny could feel him thrumming beneath his skin, even after his crazy long swim, so as much as Danny wanted to _push_ , he took a breath and told himself to be patient. “Make me breakfast?” He asked instead, and saw he’d made the right choice when Steve leapt up as if relieved by having something to _do_.

“Eggs and toast?” He asked. “Or I could do pancakes....” Danny swore Steve sounded sad about pancakes, so he filed that odd note away to puzzle out later, and said eggs were great.

They ate out on the upstairs lanai again, and Danny wondered if there was something to it, if Steve had attached a special meaning to that spot—either because of last night, or something else. But Danny was starting to suspect that it was Steve’s safe, comfort spot.

His head hurt a little, with all the things he was trying to figure out, and he tried to remind himself that he had been the one to say that poking too much at stuff was not a wise thing to do. But his desire to understand Steve better was frighteningly strong. And, while he would always want Steve to share his feelings more openly, Danny was beginning to feel oddly more comfortable with the probability that it was just not in Steve’s nature. As long as he was at it, Danny reluctantly admitted, he probably needed to consider why it was so important to him that Steve want to share his feelings with Danny. And maybe whether he wasn't doing just as poor a job sharing his own.

Because the more Danny thought about it, the more he wondered why he hadn't taken the opportunity of Steve apologizing for Maui to talk more about that whole disaster. He’d been the one to bring it up, but when Steve had apologized, he’d felt uncomfortable. And, ok, ok, he’d deflected with the damn soap again. What was his problem? What was it about that weekend that bugged him so much? And as soon as he’d asked himself that question, he knew the answer. He sat there, holding his breath because he didn’t want to admit it to himself. But, it was supposed to have been _their_ weekend. His and Steve’s. And almost the first thing Steve’d done had been to run after some girl like he really was on spring break. And, yeah, that had stung, and not just the ankle, but more than that, and Danny frowned painfully at the memory—it just hadn’t been _Steve_. I mean, come on, this was the guy who actively did things to keep Danny away from women. He’d need both hands, and his toes as well, to count the number of times Steve had come between him and a potential hook up. Yeah, there were a few times he’d pushed Danny toward someone who was in already in the picture (not that any of those had gone well, thank you). But if Danny was ever drawn to someone when they were out together, Steve always found a way to keep it from happening. And, like so many things with Steve lately, the more Danny thought about it, the more he wanted to throw something at the wall.

He shook his head to clear it, sighed, and decided he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the thought for the moment.

After they ate, Steve started giving Danny little furtive glances, like there was something he wanted to ask, but felt uncertain of how Danny would respond.

Danny let him for a while, because it was fun, and then caved. “Ok, babe, out with it.”

Steve startled. “What?”

Danny sighed, and turned to face him. “Clearly you want to ask me something, so just ask.” He tried to smile reassuringly.

Steve bit his lip, then took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to help me work on the Merc.”

Danny really did have to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and he felt awful, because Steve looked so crestfallen. “Hey, hey, hey, babe.” And he choked on another laugh. “It’s _so_ not my scene, you know that. _But_ ,” and he waited till Steve looked him in the eye. “I would love it if you’d share that with me. I know how much it means to you.” And he almost fell over when Steve’s face lit up almost comically. Well, crap. If that was all it took.... He nearly kicked himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? This was Steve’s big “seeking resolution over my failed relationship with my father” project. _Shit_. Danny should have seen that one from a mile away. 

Steve went into his room to change to work on the car, and suggested Danny change into grubbies to help, but Danny’s response was: “Babe, if you get me grubby, I will hurt you.”

Steve smirked and looked a little bit like he was considering it, but then he smiled fondly. “Ok, Danno. You are in charge of beers and handing me tools.”

Danny didn’t get much more than small talk out of him for the couple hours they hung out in the place they’d first met. He wasn’t sure if Steve was remembering it, but he was. That moment was seared on his brain. He almost brought it up, but it didn’t feel quite right, especially since Steve was focused on his task, but also Danny saw that Steve was… loosening up seemed a bit strong, but maybe he was becoming more pliant. Danny was kind of hoping he’d be able to get another good something “out” of Steve later that night. And by out, he did mean “out,” as in “not buried deeply within, under fourteen layers of crap.”

Besides, to be completely honest, watching Steve work on the Merc... well, it was entertaining on a couple different levels. One of which was that he swore. Which, Steve didn’t usually do. (Danny wondered if it was something his dad had done, and he filed away a note to ask Chin.) But he wasn’t very good at it, and it made Danny laugh. The other was that Steve working with his hands was just plain hot. And that was pure fact. Steve was good with his hands, no one would contest that. He also, and Danny knew this from numerous times getting stuck in tight spots with him, but Steve had a little MacGyver in him. This was a little bit different, because he wasn’t make-shifting car parts, but the working with his hands part... well. Danny was not mechanically minded, but he was finding that he really enjoyed watching. 

But, more importantly, Danny noticed that Steve’s mind seemed to clear while he was focused on the car. It was almost tangible—the cloud over his head simply dissipated while he was busy with his hands. Unfortunately, it did seem that Steve had been reluctant to work on it alone—and again, Danny kicked himself. The whole damned point had been for him and his dad to do it together. Danny took a deep breath and made himself promise to offer to keep Steve company while he did a little work on the car, at least once a month. Having decided that, he felt considerably better, and fell into a comfortable light banter with Steve, who laughed at him and stole his beer.

Steve went up to get cleaned up, and he wouldn’t let Danny stay downstairs, claiming he was afraid he’d burn the house down. So, Danny grabbed another beer and went to sit out on the upstairs lanai. Steve was terrifyingly quick in the shower, and before he knew it, a wet Steve was sitting next to him, again stealing his beer.

“Hey, get your own, you beer thief,” Danny swatted at Steve, but let him, because Steve was seeming so much lighter and brighter. He leaned back in the wicker sofa, pulling Danny with him, and kicked his feet up on the table in front of them.

“Ahh,” Steve said, and he still hadn’t handed Danny back his beer. “So, we did something for me, now what would you like to do?” And Steve was regarding him with such open sincerity that Danny felt he could take a chance.

“Anything, babe?” He asked, testing the waters.

“Yeah, Danno, anything,” Steve replied, easily and fondly.

And Danny watched his eyes carefully, and said it as softly and as warmly as he could. “I’d love to hear you play the guitar.” Clearly it was not what Steve had expected, and he looked down, almost shyly... that sort of dreamy, distant, in-his-head look that he’d seen Steve get when talking about the guitar (and when Danny had given it to him). “Only if you want to,” Danny said, to the top of Steve’s head. He wanted him to know he had an out. But he didn’t mind if Steve felt a little... pushed... to do it.

Steve was nodding his head. “No, I do, Danny. I do. I, ah... yeah.” He looked up, and his eyes were a bit misty. But he must have seen something in Danny’s eyes when he looked in them, because he smiled. “Yeah, ok, buddy. I’d like that.”

Danny grinned, but tried to keep it soft. “That’s great, babe.”

Steve went inside to get the guitar, and Danny stretched out, taking up the whole sofa, so Steve would have to sit in another chair. Danny wanted to be able to see him properly. He wasn’t sure what he might glean from this, but he was determined to not miss something important. And the whole guitar thing, he knew, was very important to Steve.

Steve brought the guitar out, and Danny was pleased that he looked comfortable with it, like he’d been playing. He looked at Danny like he wanted to say something about it, so Danny gestured for him to go ahead.

“Ok, Danny. So...” he sighed a little nervously. “Alright. At first, I didn’t touch it. I looked at it, but I... it took me a while. You know? It just was... hard.” He smiled. “But then I figured, I didn’t have to play the same stuff... maybe I needed something new. You know?” He looked like he really needed Danny to get where he was going with this.

“Yeah, babe, I get that,” Danny said, and he had wondered if Steve would resist, so he wasn’t really surprised. “Sounds like a really good idea... so, what’d you do?”

“So... I decided to try some slack key guitar.” He blushed. “I figured, if it felt different enough from what I’d done before, it would be easier. And, slack key, well. It’s really soothing, you know?”

Danny was trying not to grin. He nodded. Though Danny pretended he didn’t, he actually enjoyed Hawaiian guitar music.

“Well, it was fun, and it got me playing... I haven’t done a lot yet, but I really love this one.” He bit his lip, and looked at Danny... and he started to play.

It was soft, but upbeat, with that pulsing, flowing rhythm, that just kept going, a little bit restless, like Steve, persistent. Danny smiled as he watched Steve completely focus on his playing. It suited him, Danny thought, the song did. But more than that, playing the guitar looked good on Steve. He held it easily in his lap, and somehow it reminded Danny of how Steve had held Mr. Pickles. Sort of proprietarily. Completely at ease. Not at all like he was afraid of it. Danny found his heart was kind of melting, it was so nice to see Steve like this. He was starting to build a list of things he wanted to see Steve do more often. Not just because Danny enjoyed watching him, but because of how they seemed to affect Steve. The nice thing about the guitar would be, Danny realized as he leaned back, was that it was relaxing for him as well. He smiled and tried not to laugh at himself for the thought.

When Steve finished, Danny smiled. “That was lovely, babe. Really. I liked it a lot.” And Steve grinned sheepishly. “I’d love it if you played for me more often,” Danny said, softly, as if that would feel less like a demand that would make Steve resist.

“Yeah, buddy,” Steve said, “I’d like that.”


	3. Chapter 3

Steve got up to put the guitar away, and suggested sandwiches out on the lawn for lunch, and how could Danny resist. Afterwards, they ended up tossing the football around, getting a little rough with the tackling, and Danny made sure to underline the importance of physical activity and maybe specifically roughhousing on his ongoing list of “Things Steve Needs” in his head.

“I’d like to swim again before it gets dark,” Steve said thoughtfully, when they’d collapsed in a pile on the grass. “Don’t suppose you’d like to come with me?” He asked, and Danny’s heart sank a little, because Steve sounded just a little hopeful, but at the same time like he knew Danny would say no.

Danny turned and propped himself up on an elbow to look at him, making sure Steve looked back before he replied. “Babe, I love you, but you exhaust me.” Steve didn’t hide the hurt he felt at that, and Danny decided that was a good sign. “Hey, listen to me, ok?” And he waited till Steve nodded and looked in his eyes. “I would love to come in the water for a bit, but I am not going to swim to Maui, ok? You can swim your five miles or whatever you need to do, and I’ll sit here with your beer and read. Ok?”

Steve smiled, kind of sadly, and Danny pulled him into a hug, which was awkward because they were still lying down, but he could tell Steve felt better, so it was worth it. They collapsed back into the grass and stayed there, just looking up at the trees and the sky, Danny using Steve as a pillow, and Steve with his arm held protectively across Danny’s chest. Danny sighed, and allowed himself to just _be_... and knew Steve was doing the same. They made it a surprisingly long time before Steve stirred and spoke, and Danny took the comfortable silence as a sign of progress.

“So, what do you want me to make you for dinner, Danno?” And Danny almost wondered if he wasn’t seeing “Smooth Dog” because his tone was one Danny didn’t really recognize.

Danny bit the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t resist. “What’s your specialty, babe?”

Steve laughed, and pulled Danny in closer. “Well,” he admitted, “usually just steaks on the grill and a bottle of red.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head. “But you’re special. I’ll make you anything you like.”

Danny felt warm all over. He also couldn’t think, um, period. Let alone of something snappy. “Whatever you like,” he settled for.

“Ok,” Steve said, sounding pleased.

Danny was surprised when, rather than getting up after that, Steve fell back to just relaxing on the grass, his arm still tightly around Danny, and Danny just couldn’t help it, he was feeling soft and way too fond, and pleased that half a day had made such an impact on Steve’s mood. But almost as soon as he’d thought that, he began to worry about just how much it had actually taken to get here, and how improbable it was that Danny would be able to sustain this high level of... he didn’t want to call it “managing,” but maybe “care” or "attention." And, ohhh, Danny was going to get a bruise from kicking himself. Attention. Danny realized that half of what he’d been doing that day had been very like the kind of paying attention that he did with his kids. And, his heart sank as he just knew that parental attention was something that Steve McGarrett had not had nearly enough of in his life. Well, there was nothing Danny could do about that, but he certainly could give Steve attention now. Fortunately, some odd hopeful spot in Danny’s mind supplied, Danny was really—if he said so himself—not only good at giving attention, but it was something that Danny honestly loved to do. Maybe, he found himself thinking, they weren’t such an off match after all....

And just as he thought that, Steve moved to get up. “I’m going to go change to swim,” he said. “Come with me?” And he stood, and held his hand out for Danny, and holy crap, Danny was almost feeling wooed. Steve kept his hold on Danny's hand all the way up to the bedroom to change.

On their way back down to the water, Danny stopped by the desk where he’d seen the infamous workbook sitting, and grabbed it to take with him. Steve had gone to the kitchen to get beers, and when he walked into the study on his way out to the beach, he laughed at the workbook in Danny’s hands. Danny also thought he saw the hint of a blush there, which was interesting. “That your reading material, Danny?”

Danny nodded and smiled smugly. “Yep.”

“Alright,” Steve said, swinging an arm around Danny and pulling him outside. “But first you said you’d swim with me a bit.”

Danny didn’t mind the water. He actually really enjoyed surfing. But he didn’t love the whole being immersed in water thing. He stayed in for a while, and they wound up doing a little more roughhousing, and Steve was still like a kid sometimes, and it made Danny smile. But he’d had enough water fairly quickly, and he smacked Steve on the back saying “Ok, go swim, you insatiable sea monster,” and climbed gratefully back to dry land.

Once he’d dried off, he opened a beer, and sat back to leaf through the workbook, not really with an agenda, but more just to see if anything caught his eye. He had half a mind to poke more at his own personality type, to see if he couldn’t unearth something enlightening, maybe specifically about his interactions with Steve. The book fell open to a page with the corner folded down. Danny looked, with surprise, to see that it was the page on the type he had decided was closest to his own. There were words and phrases underlined, and a couple arrows drawn, and Danny found himself holding his breath in shock. They hadn’t talked about this. Steve had done this on his own. Had looked, and had found Danny’s type. He was stunned. Letting the book fall to his lap, Danny took a swig of his beer and looked out to the water. Steve was already out quite a way, and Danny sighed. Then he swallowed. And took several deep breaths. He wasn’t at all sure how to take this. He felt exposed, and raw, and anxious. But at the same time, he felt oddly excited. If Steve had taken the time to figure this out (well, maybe it had been as obvious to Steve as Steve’s had been to Danny, and wasn’t that an interesting thought), but maybe that boded well, for them to actually talk more about this stuff. Suddenly Danny was absolutely desperate to know  _when_ Steve had done that. The workbook _had_ been sitting out. And, on top, not buried beneath other stuff. So maybe it was recent. He picked the workbook back up and looked at the parts Steve had highlighted. He huffed out breaths as he read, and he tried to stay calm, but it was getting harder and harder the more he thought about what he was reading.

Setting the workbook firmly aside, Danny held on to his beer way too tightly. He let his thoughts swirl around, he didn’t even try to calm them. Fortunately, Steve didn’t stay out for too long. Danny felt the tension approaching, like a wave.

As Steve walked up the beach, Danny could tell he was assessing the situation, just like he would any potentially dangerous area he walked into. One look at Danny, and Steve would know he’d read the passages. But Steve had to have known he would find those highlighted bits, and had his whole swim to prepare for what he might say—to work himself up for actually talking about it. And it showed on his face. If Danny still named Steve’s faces he would have called this one... oh, fuck. He had no idea what he’d call it. He was feeling frankly terrified.

“So,” Steve began. And he took a long drink of his beer, then sat, looking at Danny.

Danny looked back, and he was really completely unsure what expression he might have on his own face, because his insides were so confused and freaked out. “So.” Danny repeated. And evidently Steve decided then (or had already decided) that it was his turn to take the lead.

“I like the part about you instantly sharing all of your judgments and criticisms out loud without thinking first. Made me feel a bit better about myself,” Steve said, and it was light, but at the same time baldly truthful. Danny swallowed. “But I think my favorite part has got to be the bit about focusing on other people's problems rather than facing your own. And here I thought I was just really messed up, but turns out it’s partly because you are too.” And, yeah, that stung. And oh God, Steve had meant it to. He felt like he’d been slapped. And, as he let out a breath he hadn’t really realized he’d been holding, he admitted he deserved it.

“Babe...” he started, but Steve looked sternly at him, and he stopped.

“You always want me to share my feelings. You always want me to tell you what’s going on in my head. It’s always about me. And I get that I don’t share my feelings like you do. And I get that bugs you. But it’s not just me that’s the walking wounded. God, Danny. You’ve been _so hurt_. Yeah, I’ve lost people. But you have too, but more to the point, you’ve been so hurt by the people who are supposed to love you,” and he had to pause, almost to swallow the emotions he was trying to keep back, Danny thought, and Danny was mesmerized by it. “And maybe, just maybe, it’s easier for you to try and fix me than it is for you to face it yourself.”

Danny choked as he tried to swallow, and he was blinking back tears, and he couldn’t even nod, or look Steve in the eyes, and he was stunned, and hurt, and he felt awful because he knew Steve was right... but he’d never had someone press him like this. Never faced this kind of strength pushing against him, and in one clear, painfully bright moment he saw exactly why they were, not in spite of, but _because_ of it all, simply perfect together.

“So, you know what, Danny? You’re going to stay here with me, not till _I’m_ doing better, not till you’re happy that I’m more myself, or dealing better with my losses, or whatever agendas you’ve cooked up in your little head. But you’re going to stay here until I’m happy that you’re dealing with _your_ stuff as well as mine. Ok? Because, _partner_ , if I’m doing this, then you are too.”

Danny nodded, still looking at the ground, and suddenly Steve was standing and pulling Danny into a huge, wet, salty, bear hug. “I love you, Danny. Ok? I love you. And we will do this our way, but we will do it together.”

And Danny sniffled, and managed to whisper “Yeah.”

Steve pulled back to look him in the eye. “Yeah?” He asked.

Danny nodded and smiled weakly. “Yeah,” he replied. “I love you, too, babe.” And he wiped a tear from his cheek, and huffed out a laugh as he bit his lip.

“Ok,” Steve responded. He nodded, and wrapped Danny up in another hug. “Ok. Good. Now, let me feed you.” And he somehow gathered up their towels, the workbook, and their beers, and carried it all, an arm still wrapped strongly, protectively, _possessively_ , around Danny, and led them back to the house.

They went up to shower and change, and somewhere along the way, the workbook disappeared, and Danny wasn’t sure why he noticed that, but he knew it was Steve making a statement about how exactly they were going to “do this,” and he smiled at the thought.

As soon as they were dry and dressed, they went down to the kitchen, and Danny suddenly was on high alert. This was where he’d felt the presence of the McGarrett women so strongly. He set himself up in a corner, leaned against the counter, and put on his best observation skills. Without asking what Danny wanted to drink, without even looking at him, Steve got out two wineglasses and poured some red wine from an already open bottle on the counter. Steve handed Danny a glass, but didn’t take a sip of his own, instead setting about getting out various items from the fridge, cupboards, drawers, and started his prep. His movements were precise, nothing was extraneous, hesitant, or anything less than absolutely confident. In other words, it was completely the opposite of Danny in the kitchen.

Steve was not a "chat while I cook" kind of guy, clearly, and Danny wasn't really surprised, but he was a "taste this" kind of cook, and he kept offering tidbits to Danny as he went, watching Danny for his reactions, and keeping Danny's wineglass filled. Steve didn't touch his own until everything was simmering away, and he'd cleared up his mess. Then, he leaned back, drank his wine, and looked at Danny with such a satisfied smile, it was all Danny could do to keep from laughing. 

"You're good at this," Danny noted.

"I enjoy it," Steve responded. "Well, I like cooking for other people," and there was that sad expression again, and suddenly Danny got it. He'd done this while Deb was here. 

Danny tried to smile sympathetically and said: "You can cook for me any time," and he almost had to bite back another laugh when Steve grinned that ridiculous, delightful, goofy grin of his in response. 

Danny had noticed that the dining room table was clear, and so when Steve led them in there to eat, he wasn’t surprised. But he realized at the same time that this too was connected to having had family in the house. And that was why they'd been eating anywhere but here. He sighed a little at that, and wondered if maybe that wasn't something they could change. 

After they finished, and sat drinking more wine, Steve looked across at Danny, and his eyes were shimmering just slightly. “This is nice. We should do this more.”

Danny smiled and he was a bit worried too much of his heart was in his smile. “Yeah, babe, that’s a great idea.”

They cleared the dishes and left them to soak, then headed upstairs to the lanai again, Steve carrying the bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

Danny hadn’t wanted to think about what was next, he’d just been trying to get through the day. But, he’d known Steve’s controlling tendencies would reassert themselves at some point. He’d been right.

“So,” Steve began. “Tomorrow morning you’ll need to stop by home to get some clothes,” he smirked. “Unless you want to borrow something?” Danny laughed softly and rolled his eyes. “Right, but how about we just stop off long enough for you to get ready, and we’ll go for longer after work and we can pack you up some stuff to bring back here?” He sounded a lot more tentative than Steve-making-plans typically did. “Unless you’d rather get up really early?”

“How long do you think it’ll take me to pack, babe?”

“Well,” Steve said, “I want to make sure you bring enough stuff.” He smiled. “I don’t want to rush any of this,” he said, sternly but quietly. “I want us to get this right.” And there were so many potential layers of meaning there, Danny didn’t even try to think about them.

“Yeah, ok, babe, I like that,” he replied, warmly, putting a hand on Steve’s arm, and Steve responded by wrapping his arm around Danny and pulling him in against him.

“Good,” he said, and kissed Danny’s head again, and that was something else Danny wasn't going to think too much about. “Good.”

They sat there for a while, listening to the surf, watching the stars, and neither of them, Danny was fairly sure, thinking about anything—but in a good way. He sighed. After a bit longer, Steve stood, and held out his hand for Danny again, and Danny finally got it—it was Steve’s way of reassuring himself they were in this together. He thought, as he realized it, that if he looked back he’d see a lot of things like that between them, things that maybe Danny’d been missing. He promised himself he would start noticing them more. They went in and got ready for bed in easy, comfortable companionship.

Once they were in bed, Steve asked: “Will you come sit on the beach in the morning while I swim? It’ll be early, so we can stop by yours and get you clothes....”

Danny smiled. “Yeah, babe, I’d like that. Wake me if I’m not already up?”

“Sure thing, Danno,” Steve said, as he turned over and snuggled down into the bed. Once he’d stilled, he took a deep breath, and Danny knew he was working up to asking him something. It was a while before he did.

“Is, uh, is Melissa ok with you being here like this?” Steve asked, and Danny was impressed he’d gotten that out.

Danny smiled, but then pulled Steve over to face him, and looked into Steve’s eyes in all seriousness, and made sure Steve was really paying attention, because this was important. “Hey,” he said. “Listen to me,” and he wanted to grab Steve by the chin and shake him so he got it, but he held back, and instead put all that intensity into his eyes. “Any woman who cannot get how important you are to me has no place in my life, ok? That will always be true.” The truth was, Danny wasn’t sure how she’d take it. But he couldn’t think about that right now, because he was saying as much about himself as anything, but right now, he needed, above all else, to be here for Steve. And for himself.

Steve swallowed and nodded once.

Holding his eyes, Danny smiled. And they lay there, facing each other, all sorts of things flickering across their faces, and warmth and love and a slightly battered “we’re in this together” sort of _glow_ in their eyes. And slowly, gently, softly, they fell asleep.


End file.
